


Set fire to my heart (and watch it burn)

by Mari_Gold



Category: Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angst, Character Death, I mean they're not really pining per say, M/M, Mutual Pining, One Shot, Sad, Short, Short One Shot, Temporary Character Death, but also not really?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 05:40:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18543418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mari_Gold/pseuds/Mari_Gold
Summary: For Blitz, falling in love is slow. It’s small moments, like watching Hearthstone’s hair glint gold in the sun and savoring the small quirk of Hearth’s lips when he gives one of his rare smiles.





	Set fire to my heart (and watch it burn)

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first time trying to write a ship-centered piece. Constrictive criticism is welcomed and encouraged.

For Blitz, falling in love is slow. It’s small moments, like watching Hearthstone’s hair glint gold in the sun and savoring the small quirk of Hearth’s lips when he gives one of his rare smiles. It’s knowing Hearth in a fight, always having his back and reading his attacks, and knowing Hearth at home, the way he sleeps and cooks and walks. It’s looking towards his best friend and realizing _oh, I’m in love_.

Blitz’s love is soft in the way it examines Hearth after a battle, the way it pulls up the blankets and tucks them in when Hearth is shivering in his sleep. Blitz knows he’ll always be there for Hearth, the way he knows that in Midgard the sky is blue and he turns to stone in the sun. Blitz loves Hearthstone softly and gently, and if Hearth doesn’t love him back, well, he’ll manage. Blitz watches Hearth, quiet and steady, and thinks,  _there is nobody else who’s as precious as this man_.  
  
That’s why, when the clang of blades striking fills the air, when people drop like stones all around them, when the sky bleeds red with the blood of the battlefield, it’s as simple as breathing to step in front of a sword meant for Hearth. The pain barely registers, because there’s Hearthstone in front of him, face haloed by his white-blond hair and heart-wrenchingly beautiful. Blitz loves Hearth with his soul and life, and he knows that Hearth will never love him back. That’s okay. Blitz has this moment, this second with his elf, and that’s enough. This is enough for Blitz, enough for him to quietly slip away, dying for his best friend.

~*~

What Blitz doesn’t know is that Hearth fell in love with him years ago. Hearth’s love is fierce and bright and all-consuming, and he loves with his heart. For Hearth, falling in love is crashing through a window in Nidavellir and seeing a shocked dwarf before passing out from exhaustion. He has loved Blitz from the moment they met, and he would have it no other way. Hearth chokes in his love and burns, but he bears it because he has Blitz and that’s everything he needs. Until he doesn’t and his dwarf is bleeding out in front of him.

What Blitz also doesn’t know is that Hearth’s flames lick higher when he passes on, that Hearth can’t see through the red and orange. Hearth loves intensely and ardently, and when Blitz dies, he won’t let go.

~*~

Blitz wakes up to silence and dark and pale, shocked faces. He can feel his heart beating in his chest, and _that’s not right, I should be dead._ He sits up and turns his head, looking for an explanation. He finds Hearthstone instead, lying on the ground and eyes closed, a hint of a smile on his lips. He looks like he’s sleeping, but Blitz knows he’s not, knows with every fiber of his being, knows with his core that Hearth is dead. Remnants of magic hang in the air, and Blitz knows what happened, sees the way Hearth is clutching his _algiz_ rune, the one meaning both life and death, in his hand.  
  
Blitz notices all of this, and realizes that Hearth loved him back in the way only Hearth could. Blitz’s love is soft and steady and slow, but it fills him up down to the very core of his soul. With Hearth gone, there’s a gaping hole in him, ragged and torn. Blitz takes the rune from Hearth’s cold hands and grasps it to his chest. For a second, he thinks the rune gets warmer, that the magic of a dead man is reaching out to him. Then the rune feels cold again and Blitz is alone once more.


End file.
